


Finding

by gustin_puckerman



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: AU where connor isn't dead, M/M, Social Anxiety, Suicide Attempt, and connor tries to comfort evan or something, and they're friends somehow, but mostly connor just somehow hates the idea of evan Not Alive welps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 04:56:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11223780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gustin_puckerman/pseuds/gustin_puckerman
Summary: Connor stays silent for a long,longwhile after Evan finally admits that he’s tried to kill himself when he fell down that tree.





	Finding

**Author's Note:**

> Remember that one line in “for forever” where evan was like “[Connor]’s come to get me” because all he really wanted was to be found? Well. let’s play with that scene, shall we?

Connor stays silent for a long, _long_ while after Evan finally admits that he’s tried to kill himself when he fell down that tree. 

For a moment, with his nose buried in the small space of where his jean-clad knees meet to avoid inhaling Connor’s cigarette smoke, he thinks Connor has disappeared. Like, who goes quiet for _so long_ after somebody has just admitted to committing a suicide, right? It’s so weird, and unbecoming, and Evan’s half-tempted to just crack his neck to the left to catch Connor’s reaction but he doesn’t because what if Connor really had disappeared, but like, not in the way that he goes up and _leaves_ Evan, the suicide kid, there, even though that sucks too and Evan thinks he can _cry_ , but in the way that Connor’s never real in the first place and all those times spent together, no matter how odd and strange the camaraderie were, were just apart of Evan’s hyperactive imagination even though that’s not true, ‘cause it _can’t_ be true, because somebody like Connor Murphy? Hard for the average person to come up with in their head, because Connor is so raw and real and his thoughts are his own and his emotions are heavy and cold and unpredictable but sometimes so, so nice, in the way Evan doesn’t think a “school shooter chic” could be, damn Jared, and it’s just—Evan thinks he won’t _survive_ if after all this time Connor ended up not being real, okay?

But, a minute later (feels like _eternityeternityeternity_ , feels like **forever** ), Connor blows out the greying smoke through his nostrils and mouth and even with the space between them it’s as though Evan can feel everything: the way Connor’s chest rises and falls, the way a bird chirps atop of them as it flies by, the way the fucking Earth is _moving_.

God, Evan feels sick.

“I just. It’s _dumb_ , you know? I know it’s dumb. And I didn’t really know what I was thinking except how high I was from the ground, and how if I jump and I – and I — and I — _you know_. And if I were like, not alive, like nobody would even care. Like, maybe people’s lives would be better off, because, like, I’m not. What significance do I bring to the world, you know? Cause my dad left, and never come back. And my mom’s never there, she’s never home and I don’t have any friends and it feels so — so hard to _breathe_ sometimes but when I’m up there... When I see that fall...” 

Evan swallows, and feels his whole body gets sicker and sicker. Why isn’t Connor talking? Why isn’t Connor asking him to shut up? Oh god. “But then I... I let go. I _fell_. And I wasn’t dead. And I kept convincing myself that somebody’s gonna search for me, you know? Somebody’s gonna find me. But... But nobody does. And... And if that isn’t a _telling_ —”

“I’d find you.”

Connor’s interference is sharp, _quick_ ; leaving no room to argue, almost, and Evan feels like he couldn’t breathe — but not in a bad way, in the way that people’s breath hitches in his throat because they’re startled or something unexpected happens, except Evan’s not really normal so instead of feeling like his lungs are being jumped, it actually feels like the motors of his body stops entirely and it’s worse but _not_ at the same time, you know? Like, this kind of breath-stopping occurrences? If it happens like this? Then, it’s fine. “Wh - ... what?”

“I said I’d find you. I’d search for you.” Connor has his hair (his wild, wild hair that’s in the most brown-est of colour, even though that isn’t a word) tangled and falling like curtains over his face, and Evan feels temptation surges to push them back, to calculate and take in every minor details, but he doesn’t. Because that’d be weird. Because that’d be, like, (Jared’s voice:)  _super_ _gay_. And Evan isn’t gay. Maybe. Probably. “But like, probably don’t pull that stupid crap again about you letting go because — shit, Hansen. If you were like, not alive, when you’re at the bottom, then I’d ... finding a dead fucking body of _yours,_ I’d—”

Somehow, despite the pounding in his chest, Evan forces a smile. Sniffles. “It’d be traumatising?”

“I don’t _like_ it, okay?” Connor snaps, probably doesn’t even hear Evan, and takes one long drag of his cigarette. He twists the fiery end against the ground next, then leaves it be. Evan follows the trail of the smoke as it make patterns into the space, wanting to be distracted. 

Connor finally mumbles, “I’d find a way to bring you back to life just to kill you again.”

Evan is quiet, his own eyes dragging back to his shirt to play with the hem, nervous. Not because of the fact that he’ll be a zombie brought by Connor only to be murdered, but... the fact that — Connor cares? Well, of course he does, they’ve sort of — become friends, right? And caring is only natural. But. To... to care to _that_ extent? Like... like if Evan’s gone, Connor would actually be—

Evan swallows.

“So, don’t like. Be dead, or something. We clear?” Connor is still looking at the ground, frowning hard, _glaring_ , and Evan finds himself smiling a bit more. Nodding. Even if Connor couldn’t see.

“I won’t. I m-mean... Be dead, that is. O-or. Or something. I’ll ... um, I’ll let you find me. Alive.” 

His friend exhales, like he’s relieved almost, and nods; one hand pushing on the tangles of brown away, and Evan could see them again, the pale structure of Connor’s face, the pointy cheeks and sharp eyes. 

“Yeah, I’ll find you.” Connor pauses, and then, affirmatively, he adds: “Alive.”

“I’ll find you too.” Evan swallows, determined. “Alive.”

Silence lapses quickly, and _oh_. Oh no. Did Evan fuck it up again? He’d sounded weird, hasn’t he? Sounded stupid. And wrong. And now Connor probably think Evan’s like, _bothering_ him. Because he’s weird and sweaty and a loser and—

“Good.”

And Evan’s whole body is doing that thing agains where it stops functioning because this is so unexpected and just. _Shocking_. But also nice. And Evan finds himself playing with his shirt because he doesn’t know what else to do and what else to think except Connor wants to find him, Connor will _find_ him, and Connor wants to do so and see him alive if he does and Evan’s chest is bursting with _yes yes yes_ because that’s all he’d ever wanted, isn’t it ? To be found, to be heard, to be _acknowledged_. And Connor. And god, Evan swears he’ll do the same because he wants to, he’ll find Connor every time, anywhere, because nobody deserves to be forgotten, nobody deserves to fade— “O-okay.”

When Evan turns, Connor is smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> #youwillbefound. Stay strong, and thank you for reading guys :)


End file.
